


Light Of My Life

by rarmaster



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/F, honestly if they DON'T make light of my life jokes about each other then what even is the point
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-17
Updated: 2017-11-17
Packaged: 2019-02-03 12:02:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12747912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rarmaster/pseuds/rarmaster
Summary: In which Rose and Kanaya quibble about a certain term of endearment.





	Light Of My Life

“Kanaya, light of my life, can you bring me my journal?” you call.

You’re sitting in the comfiest armchair in this house, and you don’t want to get up, and it’s on her way anyway. She pauses by the counter where your journal rests, hesitating a moment, eyebrows raised in your direction. You think, likely, it’s at the superlative of a pet-name you just doled out. You allow yourself to feel a little smug, because you thought it was clever.

“Oh. Yes,” Kanaya says finally, seeming to realize herself. She picks up your journal and makes her way towards you. “It’s just…”

“Hmm?”

She hands you your journal, then puts her hands on the arms of the chair, leaning into you, bringing your faces close. You smile grows a little wider as you look up at her—you don’t think you could ever get tired of her face,  nor the care with which she picks her words—but you sit and wait patiently for her to gather her thoughts, instead of doing what you want to do, which is place a kiss on her lips.

“Shouldn’t this be the other way around?” she asks you.

Your brow furrows for a moment, weighing her words, because you don’t quite understand. She can’t be referring to bringing you the journal, because you’re the only one with journals in the house, and that’d be a silly thing to presume should happen the other way around, anyway. Is she referring to your current positions? Possible, but incredibly unlikely.

“What do you mean?” you ask, because you don’t have enough information to make anything other than an unfair assumption.

She blushes a little bit. Usually this is where she drops her eyes because she’s embarrassed, but for you, she doesn’t pull her eyes away. She holds your gaze, steady and loving, and continues: “I mean, shouldn’t I be calling _you_ the light of _my_ life? It just makes more sense to me, seeing as you are the light player, and all.”

You laugh, gleeful. “Well, I suppose that’s true,” you admit, because she’s definitely not wrong about that. “But also, _you’re_ the one who literally glows in the dark, so I think it could go both ways.”

“Hmm.” Kanaya considers that for a moment, before she smiles. It’s her small, sly smile, the one you’ve grown to adore, grown to treasure seeing. “Touché,” she allows you. Then she leans in to kiss you.

(You think if light had a taste, it would taste like her lips.)


End file.
